


I Have Been One Acquainted With the Night

by keelover



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU - Comicverse, Superman (Comics)
Genre: Day and Night, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Sexual Content, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-29
Updated: 2012-09-29
Packaged: 2017-11-15 06:30:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/524147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelover/pseuds/keelover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time, there was a man thought to be a God who had dropped down from heaven to earth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Have Been One Acquainted With the Night

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this old, very old [prompt](http://sb-prompts.livejournal.com/607.html?thread=44383#t44383) over on LJ for the World's Finest's fifth birthday celebration. 
> 
> And thanks to the poems of Robert Frost, it went haywire and took a turn, so I apologize beforehand as this is not a fairy tale.

 

  
  
  
 _I have been one acquainted with the night._  
 _I have walked out in rain—and back in rain._  
 _I have outwalked the furthest city light._  
  
 _I have looked down the saddest city lane._  
 _I have passed by the watchman on his beat_  
 _And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain._  
  
 _I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet_  
 _When far away an interrupted cry_  
 _Came over houses, from another street,_  
  
 _But not to call me back or say good-by;_  
 _And further still at an unearthly height_  
 _One luminary clock against the sky_  
  
 _Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right._  
 _I have been one acquainted with the night_.  


 **—Robert Frost** , Acquainted With the Night

****

 

* * *

 

  
  
   Once upon a time, there was a man thought to be a God who had dropped down from heaven to earth. A God revered as a strong, fast, and impenetrable deity. A God who reached his hand into the darkness, and brought those who dwell within such obscure depths up into the splendor of the light.  
  
   There were few among earth who knew that this God, this deity they idolized and worshiped, was reared alongside man as one. There were fewer still who believed this; for whom among man would do battle for them if they knew true sin? For only a God could forgive such profound wrongdoings; such depravity.  
  
   There were none, save one, who knew he dwell within the darkness, often seeking a man, more beast than human, who refused to ascend to the light. The one he could not save; the one who dragged him down into the pits of hell. After all, deep down, he believed he was man and nothing more.  
  
   The howling wind rippled waves through a red cape, anchored to broad shoulders, it swept up behind him as he descended downwards, boots touching upon the grit and the dirt that soiled a city in turmoil. The moon was new, and as such, was omitted this dark night. A few stars, bold and powerful enough, pierced through the thick veil, illuminating a dark figure crouched upon a Gothic structure, overseeing his domain.  
  
   A bat did not dwell in the sun, nor did it welcome it with open arms.  
  
   “Kal, what are you doing here?”  
  
   There was something pensive about him, a tick in his jaw as he turned from his post to observe him. People welcomed Superman with open arms, but reeled back in horror at the mere thought of a creature such as the Batman. There was nothing more Bruce wanted people to believe.    
  
   “You know why I’m here, Bruce. You’ve been running yourself ragged.”  
  
   “I’ve got it under control.”  
  
   “You don’t.”  
  
   Bruce stalked towards him, index finger aimed towards Kal’s chest. “This is my city. Go back to Metropolis.” His words were ragged, rough, the sound of a man in mourning.  
  
   “When will you let the guilt go, Bruce? Your parent’s, that girl. You can’t save them all.” Bruce shunned him, back turned as he stalked away, intent on ending their meeting. “You haven’t slept, and the stab wound in your left shoulder has opened again.”  
  
   Kal could see as Bruce’s hands balled into an angry fist, frustration palpable. “I don’t need you to take care of me,” he said, closed off.  
  
   “I never said you did, Bruce, but I care about you, and I want to help you. You can’t help these people if you’re...”  
  
   “What? Wounded? Delicate? Human? Chose which one it is, Kal.”  
  
   “You can’t help them if you’re dead.”  
  
   “I’m not doing much good alive.”  
  
   Kal grimaced at that notion, it wasn’t true, he knew first hand how untrue that statement was. A natural aura seemed to follow him as he moved across the rooftop, falling in behind Bruce. “If I heal you, Bruce, then you can come back to hiding in the shadows, preying upon the people who dare to harm your city. I won’t ask for more,” he said, nimble fingers trailing down Bruce’s injured shoulder, concerned as he flinched away.  
  
   “You stop the bleeding, and that’s all. Do you understand?”  
  
   Kal stated his agreement, and within a matter of moments, the two men were situated within the confines of the Batcave. Bruce sat on the edge of the gurney, wincing as Kal released the closure to his cape and costume, peeling the layer of kevlar down to expose a bare chest littered with old and fresh scars smeared in blood. “How long have you gone on like this, Bruce?” he asked, using large, non-sterile cotton balls and alcohol to wipe away the dried blood.  
  
   Bruce looked less than willing to tell him, smacking Kal’s hand away when it neared too close to the injured area. “Painkillers and stimulants make it hard to tell.” Kal sighed, layering a thick amount of gauze over the deep gash before taping it into place. Bruce would allow no more than that.  
  
   Kal shook his head, uneasiness etched into the corners of his mouth, blue eyes clear in the fluorescent lighting. “You can’t keep going on like this.” Deft fingers removed Bruce’s cowl much to his chagrin.  
  
   “Remember that agreement we made?”  
  
   Kal smiled, calm and patient as he caressed Bruce’s face in his hands, tracing familiar features. “I’m having trouble recalling.” Bruce huffed, brow creased as Kal invaded his personal space, body falling in between his splayed legs.  
  
   “I’ll remind you —” Kal silenced him with a kiss. A light kiss, a fleeting and palatable touch of lips before he was dragged under by Bruce’s intensity.  
  
   When Bruce’s hands cupped the back of his head, fingers threading through his hair, drawing him closer, and down onto the gurney, Kal pulled away. “Your shoulder,” he said, a flush creeping its way up his spine.  
  
   Bruce looked up at him, knees resting on either side of his hips. “You start it. You finish it.” Bruce emphasized his point by nipping at Kal’s bottom lip, grunting as he took it up a notch, strong hands removing the bottom portion of his costume.  
  
   A growl seized Bruce as Kal gripped at exposed cheeks, fingers digging in as he hoisted his jockstrap up, adding pressure to an already aroused part of his anatomy. Bruce shoved him away, but Kal only grinned as he dove back in, mouth capturing his with momentum behind it, hands ripping the material with ease much to Bruce’s pleasure. The clasp to Kal’s cape was undone as Bruce lost his patience, urging him to undress.  
  
   Kal complied, lips swollen as Bruce continued his assault on them, head tilting to the right as his tongue slid across his bottom lip. Bruce’s hands raked up his sides, blunt and chipped nails scratching along pristine flesh, thighs pulling Kal in as the hard lengths of their cock’s pressed together in a desperate sort of friction. Kal touched and teased the expanse of Bruce’s back, urging the tension within his body to melt away.  
  
   “I can get —”  
  
   “No.”  
  
   “Bruce, don’t be stupid.”  
  
   Bruce bit down on the lobe of his ear, hard. “Use what you’ve got,” he said, positioning Kal’s hand in between his legs, groaning as Kal circled his entrance with the blunt of his finger.  
  
   “Don’t blink.”  
  
   “Kal —”  
  
   “Back.” Kal was unapologetic as he used the bottle of oil to slick his fingers, giving Bruce no time to grouse as he dipped just the tip of his middle finger into his body, breaching him fully  with the digit once his hips had lunged forward and his head had tossed back.  
  
   Bruce glared at him, taking hold of his wrist as he demanded more. Kal gripped him by the base of his neck, kissing him as he added a second finger, scissoring him open as Bruce fought to breathe. Kal sucked and bruised a path along the side of his neck, teeth sinking into his collarbone as he added a third, body clenching and stretching around him.  
  
   A strangled cry crossed his lips as Bruce took him in hand, callused palms crude as he worked his hand in a slow, jerking rhythm. Kal knew it was punishment for not listening, but he could stand the torture, thumb circling around Bruce’s perineum as he squeezed the base of his cock. Kal slipped his fingers out as he grabbed ahold of Bruce’s ass, spreading him open as he settled to give Bruce what he wanted most.  
  
   A hard press of hips engulfed him inside of Bruce’s body, a surge of pleasure shook him to the core as he responded to him, clenching down around him as precome slid between their bodies. Kal did his best to keep the gurney from moving, feet planted to the ground as he raised Bruce up, mindful of his injury as he slid in and out of him with a pace meant to get them off, and quick. Bruce’s fingers wrenched the hair atop his head, teeth sinking into his chin as he stared him in the eye, noses brushing together as he slid his tongue up the center of his mouth.  
  
   Kal’s eyes snapped shut as Bruce used his tongue to thrust into his mouth in the same manner he thrust his cock into his open, wanting body; one of Bruce’s hands spreading him open, the other teasing his entrance with spit-slick fingers as he continued to rock his hips downward. The overstimulation drove Kal to move faster, _harder_ as he twisted his hips just so, determined to hear those sounds he knew Bruce was capable of making, and he got them. All of them; only him.  
  
   Bruce cried out, coming in between them as Kal continued to work him raw. Bruce was hypersensitive; burned out by the time Kal came inside him. Bruce leaned back as Kal slumped forward, head upon his stomach as he labored for breath, kissing the fine hair that traveled south of his navel.  
  
   “You should rest.”  
  
   “That wasn’t our agreement.”      
  
  A single flame in a city of darkness. A God looking down upon lost and trodden souls as they reached out for him, extending their hands as they pleaded to be saved. If only they knew that he was only a man; if only they would believe in that simple truth.  
  
  An obscure figure trudges his way through the windy, rainy night, cloaked in the darkness he so loves. A man who, through his own fear and guilt, raises others to heights he has no thoughts of joining. A Devil who used his collective resources to save others.  
  
  There were few among earth who knew that this Devil, this incarnation of evil that they despised and feared, was once a child like them. There were fewer still who believed this; for whom among man would associate with such evil? For only a Devil could cause such profound wrongdoings; such depravity.  
  
   There were none save one who knew he dwell within the light, often seeking a man, more a deity than human, who refused to allow him to drop further within the darkness. The one he tried not to soil; the one who dragged him up to the gates of heaven. After all, deep down, he believed he was beast and nothing more.  
     
   

* * *

  
  
  
The brightest light casts the darkest shadow.    
  



End file.
